


Embrace

by Spannah339



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Gen, HUGSSSS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24890224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spannah339/pseuds/Spannah339
Summary: A thing I wrote a while ago but never actually posted on here
Relationships: Endeavour Morse & Fred Thursday
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> A thing I wrote a while ago but never actually posted on here

Morse was exhausted. Both physically and emotionally, wrung out from a good two weeks of following a case that had ended in the murder of an old college friend of his by another old friend (though ‘friend’ was a loose term really), being held at gunpoint (again), and the suicide of the murderer he had been unable to prevent. 

He stood outside the apartment, waiting for the backup he had called for to arrive, not wanting to go back into the room and the bloody contents. Really, what he wanted to do was go home, put on some music and _drink_ but he couldn’t quite yet. 

So he leaned against the wall, a little worried that his legs wouldn’t be able to fully support him if he didn’t, and waited until the cars pulled up and people began moving around him. 

He felt strangely detached from the moment. Whether that was from his connection to the case, his near-death experience or waiting a man shoot himself in the head Morse wasn’t sure. Probably a mixture of everything. 

Someone stopped in front of him and Morse looked up to see Thursday, a slight expression of concern on his face. 

“Alright?” he asked. Morse nodded, pushing himself off the wall to prove it. His hands were shaking slightly so he tucked them in his pockets before Thursday could notice. He stepped past Thursday in the direction of the cars. 

“Morse,” Thursday said, causing him to pause. “You okay?” 

“I’m... fine, Sir,” Morse said, a little taken aback at the slight catch in his voice. He swallowed, squared his shoulders and turned, stretching an arm still hidden in his coat pocket in the direction of the cars. “Drive you back?” 

Thursday stepped forward, eyes slightly narrowed as he studied Morse. Then, to the younger man’s shock, he reached out and pulled him into a hug. 

Morse froze. He didn’t know how to react, didn’t know how he _should_ react. But here he stood, suddenly lost in the embrace of his governor. He hadn’t been hugged like this for... for _years_. This wasn’t something that should happen. Thursday was his superior, this wasn’t proper. He shouldn’t... 

His father had _never_ hugged him like this. 

The embrace only lasted a moment, but as Morse pulled away he felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. He numbly followed Thursday towards the car, still not sure how to react.

“Now then, you’d best come back to mine - Win’ll love to have you for dinner,” Thursday said. Morse looked up, blinking as he processed the words. 

“I, I should get home,” he said weakly. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to go to the Thursday’s for dinner he just... he didn't deserve to. He wasn’t part of their family - he shouldn’t be getting their hugs, or their food, or their love. “Need to make sure I’m on top of paperwork,” he tried to amend with, equally as weakly. “I’ll... walk home. It’s not far.” 

Thursday didn’t push it, and Morse wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not. He simply nodded, pausing beside the car. Morse returned the nod, turning to leave. 

“Morse,” Thursday said, and he paused. “I’m proud of you - you know that, lad?” 

Morse didn’t move, staring at the ground, his emotions swirling. There wasn’t much too be proud of, really. He hadn’t managed to save any lives in this case, he had let so many people die. He wasn’t anyone to be proud of. 

But the words had brought a lump to his throat. The words that he had wanted his father to say for years, the words his father had refused to give him. No one was ever proud of him. And yet, Thursday was for some reason. And Morse knew he was sincere. 

“Thank you, Sir,” he managed to force out, his voice surprisingly steady. 

“Be careful,” Thursday said as he slipped into the car. Morse nodded, still not turning. 

It wasn’t until he was safely back in his apartment, music playing and a glass in his hand that he allowed himself the luxury of a few tears. 


End file.
